


Map the Stars

by dreaminginside



Category: Topp Dogg (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Getting Together, Introspection, M/M, This Is STUPID, Words, dumb shit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:24:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreaminginside/pseuds/dreaminginside
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sangdo is young, he falls in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Map the Stars

**Author's Note:**

> this is dumb but please someone anyone everyone love 2dragon i'm begging you

When Sangdo is young, he falls in love.

He falls for the stories of the moon chasing the sun, for the bittersweet timelessness of what cannot be but persists through time. For great flowery words written in even flowerier script by pompous writers, earnest writers, love in all its shapes and forms whispered sweet into his mind from every book and program he watched on television.

As he grows older this fascination remains in the back of his mind, through every date and conversation with someone whose eyes shine bright like that persistent moon, wondering if this particular person could make him fall out of love with love.

He finds himself seeking a love that will make him forget that sun and moon, forget beautiful bittersweet words. He wants something that will motivate him to write his own scribbled margins about overly cliched morning afters, rhapsodize over their perfectly ordinary eyes like they are gems to him, let him fill his cup of feelings so high that it spills over.

This overly romanticized love does not come easy, and Sangdo often finds himself let down as he taps his pen on his notebook after listless dates or encounters, frowning slightly as he finds his words not near fitting enough for what he knows he is searching for.

If there is one thing that Sangdo is, it is patient, and he decides that he has time to wait for this.

In the mean time, he writes about like. He scribbles about likes and crushes and all manner of pretty words, but never love.

Sehyuk is an anomaly.

He radiates something inherently different in a group of boys already filled to the brim with their own colors, and Sangdo can’t help but be drawn to him. There’s a certain easiness that settles in his stomach when Sehyuk talks, something that makes him forget about notes and margins and flowery words that he himself has fallen victim to.

The grow close through fast weaving threads of similarity, not long before Sangdo has a laundry list of Sehyuk written behind his eyes, the type of camaraderie woven through friendship with the possibilities of something more.

Sehyuk smiles like every moment is some kind of gift, and laughs like a donkey getting beaten to death. Sehyuk laughs harder when Sangdo tells him this, and Sangdo can’t help but smile because he doesn’t really mean it and he might have just wanted to hear that laugh bounce around inside his head one again.

Sehyuk listens to him talk. He listens to him night after night and they take to trading stories and fantasy in hushed voices against the bedroom wall, shoulders pressed together until they loll to sleep. Sangdo tells Sehyuk about his moon and sun late one night when they both should be in bed, circles lined dark under their eyes as Sangdo paints his pictures and sheepishly wonders why they sound so much sillier out loud than in the fantastic visions of his youth. But Sehyuk simply smiles in return, playing with Sangdo’s fingers as he speaks clearly.

“What is it exactly that is so beautiful about the sun and the moon?” He’s wearing that grin again, one that Sangdo knows even through the exhaustion means that he is thinking about something that makes him happy. Sangdo wonders when he began hoping that it was him. “Why hope for that kind of tragedy? Personally I’d much rather have something attainable, I’ve always preferred happy endings.”

“And where will you find that?” Sangdo murmurs into the silence, watching Sehyuk’s thumb move on to his wrist, tracing the vein before settling above his pulse. It feels like thunder in his ears, and he wonders if Sehyuk can feel it.

Sehyuk raises an eyebrow that Sangdo interprets to be telling him that he is an idiot, and takes the cue to grip Sehyuk’s wrist in his, leans in slow and smile through their noses bumping together, feeling Sehyuk’s smile on his lips. Sehyuk muffles his laughter in Sangdo’s shoulder when an attempt to move cracks their foreheads together, and Sangdo finds himself forgetting his stories.

Sangdo muses that love is much more than words and books and stories. It’s pinkies linked where no one can see, tired smiles pressed to the back of his neck when no one else is awake, moments of ordinary extraordinariness realized when Sehyuk smiles at him like he is the sun himself. Not every kiss made to seem like that breath would be his last, but instead his first, Sehyuk’s hands warming his cheeks like there is an eternity of new stories to tell rather than old to dwell on.

He finds himself forgetting his notebooks and his words, he finds himself living.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
